Yesterday, I co-hosted my first-ever bridal shower for a bride named Caroline.
As I arranged the flowers on Saturday night, it quickly became evident that I hadn't purchased enough paeonia. And the stores close at 4! I remembered having seen a bush of the same color just down our street, and in a burst of un-Swisslike boldness, I grabbed my wallet and walked to a neighbor's house with two kids in tow.
"Hi... I'm your neighbor...pleased to meet you... I'm throwing a Bridal Shower... no, you don't know what that is, but .... I've run out of flowers and... may I please buy some of yours?"
Her generosity was moving; out of her house she buzzed like a worker bee, armed with shears and a smile overflowing with the solidarity of a true voisine.
Naturally, she would take no payment - but pictures are on the way!
A word for the Silver Spoons. There was once a woman named Ida. She lived across the street from where I live now, after having spent a lifetime as a governess for wealthy families. Over the years she had saved and poured her earnings into a set of silver for her hope chest... only no one had ever asked for her hand in marriage. She died alone... and there was no one to inherit her silver.
The silver fell into the hands of an executor, who eventually asked me if I wanted it. Did I ever!
And so, every time I use her silver (still brand new) I say a word for Ida. I tell her how beautiful it is, and thank her for it; I compliment her choice of pattern, and remember her.
Three toilet paper brides conclude an afternoon of feminine good-wishing. A lovely life for you, Caroline... showers of wishes and hope!